


Bouchard Experience

by FriendlyCybird



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, I have somewhat different headcanons about how this whole Jonah and Elias thing works then some..., Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Mentioned Beholding Worship, Post-Post 160?, Rebuilding, background jonmartin, post 160
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21798940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FriendlyCybird/pseuds/FriendlyCybird
Summary: Going from being part of something that had unlimited knowlege but destroyed the world to being something that isn't held responsible for destroying the world now that it's fixed -mostly, but whose knowledge has been severely limited to a watered down version of the First Hand Experience... Is a transition Elias doesn't have the words to explain that he is going through. Words were mostly Jonah's thing.
Relationships: Original Elias (The Magnus Archives) & Jonathan Sims, Original Elias (The Magnus Archives) & Martin Blackwood
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42
Collections: Rusty Quill Secret Santa 2019





	Bouchard Experience

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fluxbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluxbird/gifts).



Pillow; Soft, thick, a bit damp from sweat. Blanket; thick, warm, could be a quilt or comforter. Bed; larger than a twin, not too firm but not the softest. Footsteps. 

Footsteps? 

"Who?!" Elias startled

"Calm down." Martin sounded amused and Elias felt his lip curl. Like hell he'd calm down. "It's just me. Are you alright?" 

Elias barked a sharp, strangled laugh. "Oh, yes, all the knowledge in the universe yanked right out of my head and I'm just *dandy*, thank you *so* much, Martin. I can't thank you enough for *saving* me from that horrible, evil man!" he pushed each word hard and bitterly, rage practically dripping from his tongue with the sarcasm. 

"I meant -" Martin responded, and Elias couldn't help but preen slightly to hear his patience running thin. "Do you need anything right *now*?" 

Elias let that sit for a moment, then finally blurted out "Glass of water, please. With a straw?" 

Martin huffed a bit, and his footsteps moved away. Elias was pleased to recognize the sound of the doorknob turning underneath the other man's forceful "Fine" and wanted, more than anything, to offer one last dig. Say something witty and dreadful and properly infuriating. Unfortunately, much like the eyes or the knowledge, the wit had never been his. 

It was Jon who came back. Jon he knew without having to listen. Jon he could still feel. The same empty space existed in them both and as soon as he walked in the deafening silence stilled to a dull roar as Elias tried to put together what he might be doing there. Then there were slender fingers caressing his knuckles, guiding his hand up to a cold cup. He wrapped one hand around it and reached above it for the straw, which he found quickly and fed into his mouth before drinking deeply. 

It was fruit juice. "Thank you." he said, then, sarcasm surfacing again "Not what I asked for, but...Thanks." 

Jon shrugged, Elias could feel it in the air and it comforted him. "Pipes aren't back on yet." he answered. "Nobody's sure they ever will be. The entities may be gone but...there's a lot of pieces for people to pick up. Daisy got us some bottles at a distribution center that opened at a school that looks like it got taken in by The Spiral or the Stranger for a bit, but that's mostly for bathing." 

Elias laughed a bit, a little short of manically. The detail had been unnecessary, even the fact that there was water was unnecessary. It felt good though, to know something. Anything. So of course the paranoia kicked in. "Why -" he started, then tried again. "Why are you telling me this?" 

Jon shrugged again, and Elias realized he couldn't feel it after all. Jon just made a slight humming noise when he did that, and Elias could remember it so well filtered through Jonah's destroyed eyes that the image just came to him. Jon's words helped soothe the bitterness of that realization. "I just thought you might like to know." 

There was silence after that, but Jon sat on the edge of the bed anyway as Elias sipped his juice. 

***

"You were in there a while." 

Jon winced, and then sighed. "Martin..." he started, drawing out the name, exhaustion seeping into his voice.

Martin sighed, "I'm sorry, alright?" he said, and shook his head before repeating "I'm sorry. I just. I look at him and...I still see the same person. I know he isn't and I tell myself he isn't but then..." he huffed a bit and gestured, maybe a bit too dramatically. "He does his best to act the same and I don't know what to think!" 

"He's scared." Jon explained. "He's...lost a lot of power, without being consulted." 

Martin started away from Jon, heading into the kitchen and, not quite under his breath, commented "I think it says a lot he had that power to begin with." 

Now it was Jon's turn to scoff. "You're not judging him for giving in to one of the entities, are you? Because...at this point that's about half the planet's population." Jon didn't add _yourself included_ , he didn't need to. It hung unspoken in the air just as loudly as if he had. Martin scoffed in the same way as if he had, and Jon shook his head. "Once you've had a taste of what they can offer you...it can be..."

"Don't you dare." Martin interrupted. Then he took a deep, calming breath. "I'm sorry. I know I'm being unfair, but don't preach to me about how terrifying it is to walk away from the peace you can find in fear, Jon. Not me." 

Jon withdrew a bit, properly chastised, but offered Martin a soft, sincere, and nearly playful smile. "Well, obviously you're stronger than he was." he offered. Martin rolled his eyes dismissively, but didn't argue. "I just..." and Martin bristled, Jon almost backed down, but he didn't want to leave this unexplained. "I do have a connection to him, Martin. The Eye is gone, and we can both feel it missing." 

"Isn't that good though?" Martin asked "Isn't it..." he made a building sort of, frustrated sound. "That _should_ be good!" 

"It is!" Jon assured him. "It's absolutely what's best for everyone! It's just. That might take time for some of us to fully...come to terms with."

"Fine." Martin huffed, arms dropping to his side, and he went very still.

Jon went still as well, then, slowly, lifted a hand and stepped toward Martin. "May I...?" 

Martin relaxed, visibly, and stepped toward Jon, enveloping him in a tight embrace and seeming to melt against him. Jon held the larger man close in return, just as tightly, as if afraid he would vanish, and buried his face against Martin's neck, breathing deeply for a long moment. 

"You will not believe -" Basira's voice broke in, and Jon and Martin jumped apart, startled by the interruption. Basira chuckled a bit and shut the door behind her, setting a plastic shopping bag with multiple singed holes through it on the coffee table. "You know you're allowed to hug in front of me, right? I don't mind." 

A moment or two of clearing throats, excuses, and Basira's delighted amusement later, Jon got to the point. "What won't we believe?" he asked finally.

Basira sat heavily on the sofa and started sorting through the bag. Large canned goods mostly, the labels were half rotted off. "People, mostly." she answered. "I met a woman today who called herself Slaughter-Sworn, if you can believe it. Apparently she was in one of those mass...battles? That was going around. Spent the last couple days sleeping it off and decided she was gonna keep using that. Signed on with the boys at the grocer. Apparently mops and knives are interchangable." 

"How is Elliot?" Martin asked suddenly, earning a sad smile from Basira. 

"Clingy, according to David." she answered. "Still won't sleep alone, but still the de facto boss." 

Martin nodded, and Jon ignored the pang of guilt at his total lack of knowledge of who any of these people were. He hadn't cared much to build casual social contact before, and he saw no reason to turn to gossip to satisfy the distant thurst for knowledge that he was still having trouble parsing how much was actually him and how much was something else. 

It was that last thought that took him a few steps away from the conversation that had been sparked. "Excuse me." he said softly, and started back toward what he was already beginning to think of as Elias' bedroom. 

They let him go, though he could feel their concerned gazes on his backs. They seemed willing to distract themselves from it though, as before Jon left the room he heard Martin ask "So, a few days of mystery meals ahead of us then?" 

"Daisy's been asking to cook," Basira noted. "We'd have gotten mystery meals one way or the other." 

Jon was smiling when he went through the door. 

*

"Hello?" Elias called, pushing slightly off the pillow again when the door opened. 

"It's just me." Jon answered, and Elias relaxed back into the bed.

He made a soft, amused sort of noise and asked "Here to change my bandages?" 

Jon audibly startled, then "No, actually, though while I'm here I may as well." 

There was some shuffling around the room and Elias quickly found, to his frustration, he had no idea what any of it was. After a moment he snapped "I know you probably still hate me, but could you at least narrate if you're going to be in my room? It's sort-of the only place I have any sense of anymore." 

"What?" Jon asked, and Elias groaned, nearly throwing out a barb about his clueless Archivist, only to find that he couldn't form one let alone get it to his tongue. He might miss Jonah's wit more than his sight, normal and beyond. A second later Jon got it. "Oh, right. I'm, ah, getting clean bandages. There's a cupboard...or a closet I guess? That's been turned more into a first aid cupboard than anything, in here. We're in a Safe House in London, I don't remember if we told you. Daisy had a Few of These. The one in Scotland, This One, honestly I'm not sure how she kept them all and I don't really want to know, which is, refreshing. Elias snorted, and Jon added "I could ask for you though, if you'd like." 

"Don't bother." Elias nearly snapped. "I already..." then he stopped. He wanted to throw himself dramatically onto the mattress but he was already laying down. "Well it seems I don't know anymore, so. Getting used to that." 

A few moments later Jon was sitting on the bed. Elias didn't sit up right away and Jon didn't ask him to. He could picture the other man sitting there, long, thin fingers curled in clean, white bandages. That probably wasn't how it was, he probably had the roll of them and some gauze. Finally, Jon asked softly, "How much was you?" Elias wanted to look up at him, instead he just turned his head vaguely in Jon's direction. "Do you remember? When I...our conversations. How much was you and how much..." he trailed off. 

"Was Jonah?" Elias finished, then sighed. "It's not like you're thinking. There wasn't..." he paused. "It's not like we took turns, Jon. I was Jonah, and Jonah was me, and now half of me is dead." he said it with finality. Perhaps, he realized, as silence filled the room after and he could all but feel a rush of guilt pour off of Jon, more finality than it deserved. 

"I wish I could say I was sorry." Jon said, and Elias thought about telling him what he'd just thought, but no. That was still private, wasn't it? A new concept, privacy. He'd been ready to completely forgo that. Elias stayed silent, searching out that line. Things he wanted to tell Jon because he missed being known and things he wanted to tell Jon because he honestly thought Jon deserved to know them. Never mind trying to find the right words. After a moment, Jon spoke again, the request Elias had been expecting. "You'll have to sit up." 

Elias slowly obeyed, and Jon set to work undoing his bandages. He couldn't tell if the other man recoiled, couldn't tell how he felt when he saw the empty sockets. Couldn't tell if the pause was one of thought, or guilt, or even pride. Or if Jon was just getting the new gauze ready. "First time you took someone's eyes, wasn't it?" he asked. 

Jon made a soft affirming noise, and began to apply the bandages. His touch was firm and careful and Elias relaxed into the certainty of it with a sigh. He felt the hesitation long before the question was asked. "Not the first time losing yours though." wasn't how he'd have phrased it, or at least he liked to think it wasn't. Without Jonah, he couldn't think of a more sensitive phrasing either. 

"Bit more of a religious experience the first time." he admitted. Then "You can't still compel me, can you?" 

"You?" Jon echoed. "I never could. And now I wouldn't anyway." 

Elias barked a laugh that jolted Jon's hand and an instant later pain shot through his empty socket as the other man's thumb bumped against his socket. He cried out and Jon mumbled hurried apologies and hissed through his teeth as he held the bandage in place. It was with a pained giggle that Elias managed "Hurting me won't help you avoid the question. I was born with one skill and that's tenacity." 

"I'd have thought it was money." Jon snarked back.

Elias could do nothing but grin back. "Money isn't a skill, it's a resource! I had that too, but I had no idea how to use it. That was all my dad." he paused, then "Well, listen to that. Sounds like the start of a statement to me, if you're up for taking one?" 

To his surprise, Jon hesitated. Then "I'm...really not...doing that. Not anymore." 

Elias sighed. "Could you even, if you wanted?" he asked. Jon was silent, and Elias nodded. "I'm going to take that as a yes. Do the others know?" 

"I'm not even sure." Jon said quickly. "I don't want to find out. I don't...the...need...is gone. I'm not risking bringing it back." 

Elias clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Lucky you." 

"Oh I'm still nosy." Jon said suddenly, and Elias wished he could blink, but the bandages were secure and doing their job so instead he just let his head twitch curiously. "Your dad and, later Jonah I assume? Were the ones who were good at managing resources?" 

"Well..." Elias sighed and laid back down. "Yeah. You know my reputation in between." 

"Just some gossip."

"All true." Elias sighed then "With...that in mind, if I can, perhaps, be...a lot less sober? I'd love that. I always loved getting...up in my head and just. Thinking about things. Never much for doing, just thinking...watching. I was always meant to serve Beholding."   
.  
There was silence, then "So...you chose it then. You...volunteered? To be Jonah's Host." 

Elias bristled and snapped "Not Host. I wasn't possessed." Then he sighed. "Never mind. Yes. James tested me, rigorously. I did not look like I was passing but in the end..." another laugh, and Elias reached up to grip the pillow hard as the laugh tried to morph into the sob. "I always chose to Know. Whatever the cost. However...afraid I was. Everyone at the Institute knew my flaws, whether I'd ever spoken to them or not. In the end I was Known and there was nothing much too me. Not enough to be missed." 

Silence, just a long silence. Elias didn't want to say anything else, and he certainly wasn't compelled to. Jon didn't say anything either, but the silence was far from awkward. Elias would have expected the silence to be awkward, or barring that, companionable. This wasn't either. He didn't know what it was, and that lack of knowledge was a frustrating as any other. Part of him wanted to reach out and touch Jon but that could be misconstrued so easily. Jonah had always been a bit weird about the other man and there were a lot of reasons he'd rather not abruptly demonstrate physical affection, especially when - 

There was a question on the tip of Elias' tongue, just right there. He wasn't sure what it was exactly. Something about Jon and Martin. Something that didn't really matter. didn't matter the way the slight way the mattress tipped with the weight of another person on it. The way his own weight distributed differently in a way he couldn't describe, could never have described because by himself he didn't have the words and with Jonah he'd never have cared to. Jon still didn't speak, so Elias did. "It's funny," he said. "When the world gets this small, you stop having the words to describe it on this scale." 

"Sorry," Jon said, more quickly than Elias would have hoped. He wished The Archivist would have spent more time thinking about what he'd said. At least given it a few moments to turn over in his head. But then why would he? He wasn't the Archivist anymore. He was just a normal man, and a nosy and judgemental one at that. Why would he waste his time parsing through the ramblings of a blind, sober stoner when he could just ask? "I don't follow?" 

Elias signed. "I obviously can't...see...anymore. Literally or figuratively. I'm so far from omniscient it hurts. Physically hurts. Like, I'd like a painkiller it hurts. Mostly where the eyes should be, but also everywhere." he paused, then only partly joked "The smokable variety, if you have any." 

Jon snorted. "I'm not going to go looking for any of that." he stated. "I'm not really in the market for new contacts at the moment. You understand. I think we have some of the over-the-counter variety of painkiller though." 

Elias nodded, and winced. "Yeah." he agreed. "Yeah, that." Then he stopped. "It's not just the eyesockets, I mean, that's where the physical pain is, but..." 

"But it hurts giving up the power?" Jon sounded judgmental, but what else was new? 

"Don't." Elias stated. "Don't pretend you don't understand." 

"Don't pretend you do!" Jon fired back, just a little too hard. 

Elias huffed out a hard sigh. "I might not know everything anymore, but I still know you." that got silence. "We were always...genuinely fond of you, Jon. The relief that it was, working with you after the absolute nightmare that Gertrude could be at times? Not just because you were..." he gestured with his hands, flexing with his fingers as if shaping clay. "Malleable." he finally settled on saying "But because you were just more pleasant, and better humored. And frankly less scary. I mean...it's a low bar to be more pleasant and good humored than Gertrude Robinson, and you sort-of scrape it on the way past anyway but the point is... I know you liked the power too. I know you..." he took another shaky breath. "I know in your own way you loved our patron." 

"The evil entity that thrived on the fear and torment of others?" Jon deadpanned. "Not really." 

"You did." Elias pressed. 

"I hated it." Jon countered. "Still do." 

Elias groaned and rolled onto his back. "Tell me you don't actually think hate is the opposite of love. Please." Jon stammered for a moment, as if genuinely confused and Elias scoffed. "Don't make me feel like the smart one here, I know I'm not. Jonah was smarter than both of us but without him I'm practically an idiot compared to you but even I know that it's the nature of worship to love and hate in..." he flexed his hands again, side-by-side, before finding the words "In parallel. In conjunction. Fear, any fear, is equal parts terrible and wonderful. It's why people ride roller coasters, or watch horror films." 

"This is different." Jon answered. 

Elias turned his head slightly on the pillow, as if gazing up at him now a little sideways. It made the blood flow slightly differently and the pain he'd complained of, that he'd mostly been able to ignore until then spiked so suddenly that the question he'd meant to ask genuinely came out a harsh hiss "How So?" 

Again, Jon stammered, and Elias would have given anything for the ability to tease him about it. Instead he just sat there quietly, hoping the pain would pass. It was several moments later that Jon answered "It's real. The statements... The fear, the misery...they all belonged to real people. Most of them...if not innocent, they certainly didn't deserve..." he trailed off and went quiet. 

Elias sighed and nodded a bit. "I've heard that before." he said. "I'm in...way too much pain to argue with you. Plus I'm...you know. I didn't actually pay enough attention in my philosophy classes to argue with you." Jon made a derisive sound, and Elias sat up slightly, smirking at him. "What, do I deserve to have to admit defeat in an argument enough so you enjoyed that?" he asked, a bit mockingly. "I'm not Jonah." 

Elias expected more stammering. Instead Jon answered quickly. "You were." He fell silent then, unable to answer. Unable to explain. How untangled he felt now. How no matter how much he felt as if a part of him had been lost that part of him had never been him, no matter what he might say. He didn't get the chance though. Jon stood up again and said "Try to get some sleep. I'll try to find you something for the pain." 

Moments later he was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're interested in sequels to this, let me know, because oh boy do I have ideas for sequels to this.


End file.
